


In Any Apocalypse

by Zoadgo



Category: The 100 (TV), Z Nation (TV)
Genre: Drabble Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-03 22:32:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5309492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoadgo/pseuds/Zoadgo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles, completely unedited and unchecked, for Johnkay (John Murphy/10k)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Friends to Enemies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: "ok but what about enemies to lovers johnkay because that's my favorite trope"

It looks like an abandoned prison, defenses still evident, but run down by years of the apocalypse. The group is running low on food, water, and basically everything, so they decide it’s worth the risk to go check it out. 10k has a bad feeling about it, swears he can feel people watching him from the vacant windows, behind cold iron bars, but he can also feel his tongue grating on the roof of his mouth due to dehydration. He doesn’t protest when the group heads towards the prison, and they step through busted open doors, tracing their way through hallways until they get to a courtyard surrounded by levels of cells, walkways in front of them barred from the open air by more bars.

This is when the group splits up, and 10k heads as high as he can go. He swears he can hear whispering at a distance, and he redoubles his speed. If things go south, he wants to be able to take a few shots and give the group a chance to get away. He slips his rifle from his shoulder into his hands and jogs up the stairs to the highest floor before glancing back down to the courtyard as a shout rings out, and the vague whispering turns into excited chatter.

What had just been barren concrete when he’d begun his ascent is now scattered with very obviously armed people, all seeming to be around 10k’s age or younger, save one of the people standing in the middle, a man who looks to be in his mid twenties. 10k kneels down to set up his rifle, aiming at the blonde woman and the slightly older man standing in the middle of all the excited people, noticing hands and legs appearing through the bars on lower levels as people lean against them, weapons carelessly dangling in their grip. 10k counts quickly, as a commotion occurs near the entrance to the courtyard, his final number of hostiles being 42 that he can see. Not good.

Warren is the first one to be dragged into the courtyard, fighting the two teens holding her every step of the way, and the rest of 10k’s group follows. He watches as they’re all forced to their knees in front of what must be the leading pair, and he scope in on a target, ready to shoot when he feels it’s needed.

“And here I thought it was another punishment to put me up here. Turns out it’s my lucky day.” 

10k hears the voice behind him and spins towards it, dropping his rifle and reaching for a melee weapon as he moves. He catches a glimpse of a boy with dark hair slicked back and sharp features before the dark smile on the boy’s features drops and he tackles 10k. 10k fights back, but the boy has the element of surprise on his side and manages to bash 10k’s head into the bars, not hard enough to knock him out, but enough to stun him for a moment. A moment is all the boy needs, as he quickly flips 10k onto his stomach and binds his hands with zap straps against 10k’s feeble struggles.

By the time 10k is enough back to his senses that he could properly fight back, they’re already on the stairs, and he doesn’t want to risk breaking his neck because the guy falls on top of him. So 10k walks down the stairs, practically feeling his captor’s smugness radiating off of him. How had he not heard the guy creep up on him? He’s certainly not making any attempts to cover up the sounds of his footsteps now.

As they descend, 10k sees people’s backs, everyone leaning against the bars that prevent jumping into the courtyard, attention fixed on the scene below. 10k wonders how they’re going to get out of this one, this would be one of the larger groups to have ever captured them. Really, they should put more effort into not getting trapped.

“Bellamy, Clarke!” 10k’s captor calls out as they walk into the courtyard, and the leading pair looks up at him with matching looks of disapproval on their faces. 10k’s group turns their heads to look as well, and he mouths ‘sorry’ to them. They nod their heads in understanding and return their attention to the pair of Bellamy and Clarke as 10k is forced to his knees next to Doc.

“I found another one of them,” 10k’s captor is proud, and as he walks next to 10k and into his field of vision, 10k observes him more. He’s attractive, in the way that an improvised weapon that saved you life is. Sharp, a little bit different, and given the smirk on his face and that fact that he ruined 10k’s plan, not entirely pleasant.

“Yeah, we can see that, Murphy,” Bellamy’s voice is a dry mumble, and Clarke seems to be torn between smiling at his comment and glaring at Murphy.

“Okay, you can go now,” Is all that she says to Murphy, who frowns a little at that. 10k wonders about the history there, that they would so obviously dislike someone who had just saved them a lot of hassle and potentially their lives.

“But I-” The boy called Murphy starts, but Clarke cuts him off.

“You can head back to the upper cells, or you can leave the Sky Box altogether, your choice,” Clarke’s voice is hard, and 10k wonders if that’s just the kind of leader she is, or if this is reserved for his captor.

For a moment, it seems that Murphy is going to say something else as a dark look gathers on his features, but then he shrugs and all emotion falls away into a casual arrogance. He turns with a smirk on his face again, and Bellamy and Clarke turn their attention back to Warren as Murphy walks away without further protest. Not, however, without expressing his disagreement with his leaders, by dropping a small blade by 10k’s hands. He wasn’t that subtle about it, but then again, no one seems to want to look at him.

10k ignores Warren’s negotiating, instead sawing away at his bindings as stealthily as he can and passing the blade to Doc, who manages to keep his surprise from showing when the metal touches his fingers. 10k keeps his hands behind his back, wrists together, hoping they’ll all be able to free themselves before they’re noticed. Then they can run, and maybe Warren and Vasquez can grab Bellamy and Clarke as hostages to ensure their safe exit from this place. 10k regrets having to leave his rifle behind, but there’s no way that he’ll be able to get it.

10k looks for who’s going to be the biggest threat when they try to make their escape, and he doesn’t see anyone who looks to be ready to use their weapon. All of them seem so confident that they’ve subdued their prisoners, and although it makes 10k question how they’re still alive, he’s thankful for it. It’ll make his life easier, and hopefully longer.

10k risks a glance behind them and sees that Warren, the last in their line, is working on her own bindings now. Soon, they’ll all have use of their hands again, and they can make their attempt. 10k breathes and steadies his heartrate as he does when taking a tricky shot and waits for the signal to move, whatever form it takes.

The form it ends up taking is unexpected, a bullet snapping down from the upper floor and embedding itself in the concrete next to Bellamy and Clarke. Everyone jumps, and then Bellamy curses loudly and starts shouting orders, telling his people to go and get the shooter. Before they even technically know who is was, Bellamy is already calling him “Murphy”, as if he assumes any form of betrayal would be from him.

In the rush of movement as everyone races to obey Bellamy’s orders, Warren lunges forward and grabs Clarke, the knife Murphy had given 10k held to her throat, and Vasquez grabs Bellamy with nothing more than brute force as a weapon.

“How about we talk about that whole “letting us go” thing again, hm?” Warren says to Clarke, and both Bellamy and Clarke put their hands up as their people begin to realize what happened and train weapons on the group.

“Let them go,” It’s Bellamy who says it, and Clarke echoes the command to their people. Slowly, weapons lower, and 10k and his group back out of the room.

Their passage out of the building is relatively uneventful, and once they’re outside, they demand their weapons back and receive them. They release their hostages, and Bellamy and Clarke hold true to their word and allow them to leave without any further issues.

The group rounds the corner away from the prison to their truck, still starving, but more than ready to leave the place and any possible scavenging in their rearview mirror. 10k climbs in the back as Warren, Vasquez, and their Murphy get into the cab, missing the weight of his rifle. The engine turns over and they begin to roll away when 10k hears a shout.

“Wait!” Addy signals to Waren to pause for a moment in response to the shouted plea, and 10k’s brow furrows in confusion as his captor, the other Murphy runs up to the truck, a large bag on one shoulder and 10k’s rifle on the other. He reaches it, a little short of breath, and grabs onto the side as 10k aims a pistol at him, a precautionary measure, “Take me with you.”

“You tied me up and helped capture me and my friends, why should we let you come with us?” 10k frowns, and Murphy smiles.

“Yeah, but I helped you get free, too. Even took a shot at Clarke for you.”

Considering where the shot had hit, 10k is mildly horrified at Murphy’s aim. Addy snorts at Murphy’s explanation and shakes her head, “Seems to me like you would have done that on your own time, anyway. It’s not enough, sorry pal.”

“Fine,” Murphy sighs as Addy leans over to tell Warren to drive away, and he heaves the bag on his shoulder into the back of the truck where it lands with a heavy thud, “Food and drinks, all stolen from the Sky Crew back there. I’m sneaky, you could use me.”

Addy pauses for a moment, before leaning to the driver’s window to confer with Warren, and Doc immediately opens the bag and starts looking through it, listing off what’s inside. 10k continues to hold his gun steadily aimed at Murphy’s head, and Murphy looks at him with a smirk, as if he doesn’t care at all about the potential of being mercied alive.

“Sorry about the whole hitting you in the head thing, but hey, at least I didn’t ruin your good looks,” Murphy says to 10k, not sounding in the least bit sorry, and 10k has no idea what sort of game he’s planing at here. Flattery won’t save him if 10k decides to take the shot. 

“Get in,” Addy turns back to them and says to Murphy, who wastes no time in hopping into the truck. She puts her hand carefully over 10k’s, guiding him to lower his weapon, and he does so with a frown. 

“There’s some chicken soup in that bag, you mind passing me some?” Murphy asks 10k, who looks into the bag briefly and throws a can of creamed corn to their newest addition. Murphy looks at the label and wrinkles his nose, but sets to opening and eating it anyway.

“You’re going to need a better name,” 10k points out, and Murphy raises an eyebrow at him, “We’ve already got one asshole Murphy.”

“You can call me whatever you want, lord knows my old group had enough names for me. Very creative with the insults, that bunch,” Murphy says with a shrug.

10k settles back against the bed of the truck, selecting some chicken soup in a can for himself and eating while watching Murphy with a wary eye. He doesn’t trust him, and he knows he may have to some day, but not yet. He does find that he doesn’t hate the new Murphy, however, when he hands 10k back his rifle without prompting. And when he doesn’t hate him, it’s a lot harder to ignore how attractive he really is.

Damn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cross posting from tumblr, come cry with me [there](http://jonnmurphy.tumblr.com)!


	2. Murphy gets a shower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [whishuponadragon](http://wishuponadragon.tumblr.com/): “Ok so I had a Johnkay headcanon and reply is still down so here it is. You know how Murphy perpetually has blood all over his face? Sooner or later the Z Crew + Murphy will get somewhere safe and he’ll wash all that off and the first time 10K sees him without blood he takes way too long to recognize him. Then once he does he’ll be like ‘yes I have a very pretty bf, like prettier than I thought.'”

It’s not much of a safe haven, an old military bunker in the middle of a forest, but there’s enough supplies there and the walls are thick enough that the group feels comfortable enough to sleep with only one of them on watch. It’s freezing cold in the dark confines of the space, and Murphy makes it a point of pride that he’s the only one who doesn’t comment on it. He does, however, cuddle up next to 10K as he works on building a fire, attempting to steal some of the skinny boy’s body heat. 10K simply smiles at him as he sits as close as he can to him and turns his attention back to the pile of kindling and wood in front of him.

“Hey guys, come check this out,” Addy’s voice echoes through the small bunker from another room, but she sounds pleased with her discovery, not urgent or concerned. Murphy stands to go investigate, raising an eyebrow in question at 10K.

“I’ll check it out later, after we’ve got this set up,” 10K gestures at the now smoking pile of wood chips and lint, and Murphy gives him a smile before turning to go see what Addy had found. Murphy appreciates 10K’s intensity when it comes to survival, if he’s being entirely honest he finds it more than a little bit hot when 10K is saving their asses in the wild.

It’s not a long walk from the light of 10K’s scarcely used flashlight to that of Addy’s, confined within a small room off of the main storage area they’ll all likely be sleeping in. Murphy steps through the doorway, already missing 10K’s comforting presence and heat next to him, but he can’t help the smile that forms on his face as he sees what Addy found.

“It’s cold, but with the blankets I saw in the main room there, I’d say we should all be safe enough to have a go,” Addy states, and Warren nods in agreement, eyes fixed on the cascade of water from a rusted showerhead.

There’s an actual shower here, perhaps gravity fed from a hidden cistern or something, and all of them want it, it’s plain enough on their faces. Not for the first time, Murphy feels itchy all over, never having had a chance to wash off the blood and dirt from his escape from the Grounder gang that had thought he was more important to his previous group than he actually was. He swears he can feel every flake of blood trapped under his shirt, rubbing against half healed injuries and fresh scars. God, he wants that shower badly.

“You go first,” Murphy looks around to see who Warren is giving the honour to, probably Vasquez or Addy if Murphy had to hazard a guess, but then she pats him lightly on the shoulder as she heads out of the room, “Let’s face it, you need this more than any of us.”

Murphy is frozen in shock at the kind gesture, even if she was likely only doing it to save her own nose, and he reaches out on reflex as Addy hands him two blankets, instructing him to wash his clothes and use one of them as a towel, and the other as clothing until his own dries. And then, before Murphy properly has a chance to realize what’s going on, he’s alone in the room, the light of the fire that 10K’s got going in the main room shining off of the spray of water from the shower.

Murphy drops the blankets well out of range of the shower and steps into the chilled, but clean water with all of his clothes still on. He stands for a moment, letting the water soak through his hair and onto his skin, before removing his shirt, rubbing at the stains as the water slowly cleans dirt from his hair and blood from his face. All of his clothing gets the same attention, the best cleaning that only water and friction can give, and Murphy spends a selfish few moments simply enjoying being clean, running his hands through his hair which is still slightly greasy but no longer matted. He doesn’t look at his arms or his torso, not wanting to see the bright scars that linger as a reminder of what had happened to him.

Murphy steps out of the spray of water far earlier than he wanted, but he dries off with one slightly itchy orange blanket and wraps the other around himself, carrying his wrung out clothes in one hand as he seeks the heat of the fire. The group is sitting around it happily, 10K explaining how a crack in the top of the bunker is actually good for them, as it acts as an improvised chimney. They all look up at him as he approaches, and he stops awkwardly as they stare at him, holding himself back from being overly sarcastic at them just so they’ll ignore him.

“Well,” Warren starts after an uncomfortably long moment, “Who’s next?”

And like that, the group starts bickering over who gets shower privileges next, all except for 10K, who’s still staring at Murphy. Murphy walks up to him awkwardly, hoping he’s not showing one of his worse scars or injuries on accident, laying out his clothes next to the flames and sitting with the blanket curled protectively around himself.

“Alright, what are you staring at?” Murphy just comes out at says it as 10K continues to look at him, almost in some form of shock.

“You.”

Murphy rolls his eyes at 10K’s simple answer, “I can tell that, idiot. Why exactly are you staring at me?”

Murphy is prepared to defend his wounds, the scars he’s relatively certain are now far more evident on his face and wrists. He’s already gathering his wit around him like the blanket, a line of defense, but it doesn’t prepare him for 10K’s painfully honest response.

“I knew you were pretty, but I didn’t know that you were so gorgeous underneath all the dirt and stuff,” 10K’s tone is almost reverent, and Murphy has no words as he turns to look at the boy who means more to him than he’d ever thought someone would. From anyone else, Murphy would consider the term “pretty” to be an insult, but from 10K he knows it’s not intended that way at all.

“I- uh- shit, Tommy-” 10K’s pre-Z name slips from Murphy’s lips in his flustered state, a whisper as it always is when he uses it, and 10K smiles at him, brushing his fingers along Murphy’s jaw until they come to rest at the back of his neck, curling comfortably there.

10K kisses him, and Murphy doesn’t think about the scars on his face, or every echo of injuries past that he hides beneath the blanket. All he thinks about is how 10K had looked at him and called him pretty, and it’s very hard to keep his hands holding the blanket around himself and not reach up to pull 10K closer to him. Murphy contents himself with the slide of their lips together and the way that the group very pointedly looks everywhere but at the young couple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cross posting from tumblr, come cry with me [there](http://jonnmurphy.tumblr.com)!


End file.
